From: organs@backdoor.com (Bruce)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.gay
Subject: NABIL (ym/ym) (1/1)
Date: 10 May 1996 02:31:44 GMT
Organization: The Denver Exchange, Inc.
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Posted for a friend. Comments to me will be forwarded. - BB


         ********************** NABIL ******************** 

I was a young man of thirteen; from the age of seven I had been sent to
public boarding school some fifteen hundred miles away. The result was that
every vacation proved to be lonely, as very few local children knew me. This
problem was exacerbated by the position of my home, which was an ancient
palace whose massive stone walls and fluted columns had stood silent witness
to so much great history of my illustrious family. This edifice, with its
silent echoing hallowed halls and lofty vaulted ceilings; with six foot thick
walls of solid and very black granite, held sway over the town beneath it,
inspiring awe and respect from all who saw it. That, after all, was the
object of this towering titan, and for the most part I was always conscious
of it. This is the place I called home and was well acquainted with. But it
did nothing to making my life easier when trying to make friends with the
local youth of the area. They always seemed reluctant - even afraid - to
enter here; and I could well understand their trepidation, for deep dark
shadows sometimes seemed to lurk and flit blithely across your peripheral
vision. But there were no dark and foreboding spirits here; only overactive 
imaginations. I had long since grown accustomed to this magnificent 
building, set apart in a sea of undulating sand that always shifted, driven
by the searing remorseless wind. Outside the temperature rose daily to 160
Fahrenheit in the shade, but within the quiet stone walls there was a chill
coolness in the air that often forced a shiver, and even set your teeth to
chattering. I suppose I was (to say the least) luckier than most. Son of a
'Sheikh in an old and noble house, a prince among my people, my clothing
denoted my position and my education was guided to that day when I would sit
upon the durbar of my ancestors. The black and gold-piped jubbah, the symbol
of my temporal power, and the silver handled jewel-bedecked curved dagger
that on special occasions dangled at my side were symbols of my right to rule
this ancient tribal people. But all of this conspired against my meeting
friends easily, and as a result I was always something of a lonely figure.

The palace, like most within the Eastern culture, was a square outer and
inner structure within which there were secret hidden gardens at its
innermost sanctum where fountains played and dripped into sunken pools. Nor
was this purely decoration, for it served its function: from this place
fluted ducts ran into the palace conveying a cooling draft of fresh-scented
clean air within during the heat of the day, yet keeping the structure warm 
in the cold of night when temperatures could drop to below freezing under the
clear blackness of a starlit canopy of sky. The building was separated in all
its functions, so men and women could live their separate lives in privacy,
sharing only when alone among the most immediate family. I had my own wing
within these ancient massive walls, a place of quiet safety aloof from all
and sundry. This then was my place and my role within the scheme of things to
come. All of which I accepted with resigned gentle affability.

This year was different; I had written my father and asked if I could bring a
friend to stay for the summer vacation, and he had agreed willingly. This is
how it is that I came to spend my summer with Nabil. His father had gone
abroad on business, so everything was arranged rather conveniently. As we
drove up from the station I have no doubt his mind had not imagined what
eventually confronted him. There in the summer haze of heat and swirling
dust, was the might and grandeur of my home. His dark eyes stared and opened
wide as he briefly lost his composure, and his jaw dropped open at the sight
of the edifice I had the privilege to call home. I gently reached out with an
extended finger and closed his gaping mouth for him; he turned sheepishly and
broke into a grin. The car drew up and out we stepped to meet my impatient
father who greeted us warmly with hugs and kisses to our cheeks and lips. I
noticed the little body drain tension and relax immediately; Nabil would fit
in here and be happy.

Nabil was a very slightly built boy the same age as I, though that would
hardly be believable. Compared to me he was a narrow-chested, even
narrower-waisted little boy, and I stood head and shoulders above him, with
an impressive bulk, broad shoulders a mighty chest and back riven with
rippling muscles diving into a steep 'V' to my waist, which was almost as
narrow as his. His skin was smooth and rich and dark, flushed with youth and
a natural sheen, like satin. His hair was collar-length, thick and black, 
curled at the fringes. I was paler but still a rich golden tan brown with
much lighter brown hair and hazel eyes, and we got on splendidly. We liked
each other: after all, we were friends, but despite my predilection for
sexual partners of the same sex as myself, I had never made any advances to
him because I was otherwise engaged with two very beautiful boys at school.
Nabil was just one of my innumerable friends there and I had never viewed him
as potential for matters physical. Not that he wasn't exceedingly good
looking: he was very beautiful. It's just that there was no love angle
involved. So I had ignored the possibility and avoided any further complexity
in my already full young life. 

We soon settled in, with his room next to mine, and we spent the first night
chatting animatedly in my room with him bouncing up and down excitedly on my
bed in his short pants and nothing else before sleeping. Mind you it was not
long after the house was dark and quiet that he came back to my room and I
felt his hot young body slide into bed with me. That is how we slept: I woke
to find him snugly cuddled up to me, his head on my chest and enveloped in my

arms. I kissed him a gentle good morning and he rose, very bleary-eyed and
obviously suffering from lack of sleep. I laughed, knowing the reason was the
ancient mighty walls! This established a deep compassion for my lithe,
beautiful young friend, and thus my feelings began to alter, shifting 
gradually from friend to lover.

We did everything together, which further strengthened the bond that was
growing ever-stronger; and at night he shared my bed. This is how we spent
the first couple of weeks, doing and seeing all, and everything in town, then
hiking out into the sandy desert in the heat of the sweltering mid-day sun
where big game still ran a-plenty and the plaintive calls of the peacocks
could be heard above the other sounds within the palace grounds. This was all
my home and it came as second nature to me, tracking game for fun and showing
him the spoor of all sorts of animals. 

However, the days grew hotter, sapping our energy. One day we stayed indoors.
He had gone to his room, and when he returned he was unclad except for a tiny
pair of shorts. He jumped straight upon my bed and laid his smooth soft very
hot body next to me. Without any thought or design, I absent-mindedly reached
out and started to stroke his beautiful chest, massaging his tiny nipples
which stood erect immediately as his dark eyes flashed and became misty with
the enjoyment of my physical stimulation. My hand roamed across his smooth
soft belly and around his navel; then my fingers sensuously explored his
sides and he reacted by tensing the abdominal muscles in his belly, which
generated undulations where they separated out, on the normally flat smooth
surface. Pleasure was etched on his face as a tiny tent developed in his
pants and protruded proudly. Things were developing into a most interesting
turn of events. My hand returned to his navel and with a gentle touch, his
belly responded by sinking visibly as he demonstrated to me that there was
another part of his anatomy that required attention most urgently.

But I did not respond immediately; instead my hands went up to his neck where
I massaged gently and then slowly, very slowly drifted back down his dark
silken body. By now his erection was reacting to the material of his shorts
while the rest of his little body was being stimulated by my large practiced
hands, which drove him to the point of distraction. Unable to contain himself
any longer, and without any invitation from me, he first arched his back,
slipping his shorts off his butt, then down his thighs as he folded his legs.
The shorts had slipped off and now lay on the bed. His hot, dark, smooth
young naked body lay writhing on my bed before me as his eyes shone and grew
misty, begging me to meet his need for me. As my hand slid down slowly, he
smiled beautifully: the time had come.

My hand circumnavigated his erection and stroked the round inside of his
thighs; he responded by thrusting his hips up to me. My other hand came down
on his belly and pushed him gently but firmly back onto the bed. I massaged
his smooth round balls and he parted his legs amiably: that is when I touched
his five inch stiff dick, handling it briefly. His eyes closed in ecstasy and
the next thing he felt was my hot wet mouth engulfing his dick slowly.  Just
the smooth round head I held in my lips; I rolled my tongue and teased the
head, then slowly, very slowly, I swallowed all of it completely.
 
I shifted position, and with one hand pushing upon his balls, I engulfed his
dick and balls in a single mouthful. Once again his hips thrust up, and once
again my mighty hand came down on his belly to press him flat. He was gone,
his dick was spasming and his back arched: with his shoulders off the bed and
his butt pressing into the bed, his head rolled back, his abdominals bulged,
and his body jerked uncontrollably as compressed jets of spunk erupted from
his narrow hot body and shot into the back of my mouth. It was only then I
realised that this kid had been in love with me for some considerable time.
His physical responses were not merely pent up youthful sexual energy. This
was his desire, not mine, and I felt flattered and happy. Still very hard and

very erect, he smiled gently and turned his dark smooth sexy body over for me
to lie on his belly. His slim back lay in front of me as his silky young butt
cheeks formed two little mounds; his legs parted and folded at the knee,
spreading his hot young buns and exposing that dark tight round virgin hole
that now lay before me. I had no shirt on and soon shucked off my pants and
greased up my massive pole; I think he suffered from nervous shock as his
eyes glistened and sparkled, taking in the vision of eight long thick and 
very horny inches, which I guided unerringly to that dark spot at the
junction between his hot young thighs and the globes of his butt.

My dick head met his soft tight hole and demanded entry; gently, it slid in.
As he felt it he breathed in sharply and I enquired, "Sorry - did it hurt?"
"No," he replied, "it is lovely ... please, please, fuck me." My hands
massaged and slipped over his neck, shoulders and back as my dick slid into
his body smoothly. He was very tight, and his body had my dick gripped like a
warm wet vice. I got it all into him and he arched his back, raising his
chest from the bed so his head turned to meet mine which was bending over him
and I kissed him: differently, deeply and with mounting hot passion driving
my body. I was now thrusting and grinding into him powerfully and that
stimulation set him to moaning and pushing his hips back onto my mighty organ
in a torrent of explosive energy that was quickly building to the point I was
going to burst into his body. He virtually screamed as he came a second time
and almost in unison I knew he felt me cum deep inside his belly. As my body
did a jerk and tensed muscles spasmed madly, my mind and body ejaculated and
emptied my hot jets of spunk into his body. 

That is when the door opened and my father stepped into the room! Surveying
the scene instantly, he stepped out again and from outside said, "OH! I do
beg your pardon, I am so sorry, but I came to tell you boys lunch is ready.
So, when you two have finished please come along, and don't be too long." You
can imagine the pandemonium! With still-hard dicks, the pop as I drew out of
his body in a hurry, naked hot young flesh bumping together, embarrassment at
being not just caught in the act, but at the exact and very same moment of
total excitement, abandon, and fulfillment! We quickly showered together and
dressed and went to lunch very sheepishly; my dad was sitting at the table
patiently. Red-faced, we sat down gingerly, expecting some fate worse than
death. But he served himself and commanded us to eat; we obeyed, and he
merely chatted cheerily about all manner of things, without mentioning our
earlier disgrace. Then, as the meal ended and I requested his permission to
leave the table, his eyes burned briefly and his veins swelled on his mighty
forehead, always a sign of serious trouble. Darkly, he said, "Son, I don't
mind: we have known about you two for a long time. But stay together
faithfully, and if I ever catch you with anyone else I will kill you, do you
understand me?" I responded with, "Yes, dad." "That goes for the both of
you!" - and Nabil said, "Yes, sir" - and that was that.

But who was this "we"? - and what was this "long time" bit? 

Well, "we" was my Dad and Nabil's father; the "long time" part was because
Nabil - the silly boy - had been dreaming about me for ages and talking in
his sleep! Our parents had assumed, naturally enough, that we'd been "doing
it" for ages!  Thus, our very first time together physically had been assumed
to be our thousand and first, no doubt. It did have one advantage though: we
slept together through the whole vacation and I thoroughly enjoyed Nabil's
very hot and sexy body, availing myself of him at every opportunity, which
was an awful lot. And my father always knocked and waited patiently to be
granted entry into my room. Most thoughtful of him really. It was a wonderful
summer vacation in the end.

                             ********

I regret to say that when we got back to school, I went back to my two usual
and even more beautiful boy-friends, filling up their senses and exploring
their mysteries. Nabil often came to me and asked me to take him to my bed
but I never did. This was not malicious, it was just that there was one other
thing about him: he was painfully honest and was busy reporting back to his
family in detail everything we did. Though I appreciated his candour and
honesty, I sure could do without the colourful reports of our activities: I
mean, there is such a thing as discretion which he did not employ clearly,
and that is what drove a barrier between us. Imagine my embarrassment and
amazement when all we did privately came back to me not from him, nor his
family, but from my father who had finally told me to terminate the
relationship with him for this self-same reason and employing much the same
words. My dad had said something along the lines of certain acts are to be
private between two individuals and there was a need to be discrete, and so
forth. He had added that Nabil was a painfully graphic boy!

I must confess that my two permanent and regular boy friends were, on a scale
of things, infinitely more beautiful than my friend Nabil. Perhaps the fact
that they had as much to lose as me, for they too were born of royal and
powerful families, meant that their discretion was guaranteed; and I must
admit that their passion and their love for me was total and complete. Rikky
and Imdad loved me deeply, and as a matter of fact I knew it. They loved each
other too and that was a bonus, for we shared our lives freely, not venturing
beyond to seek solace and fulfillment. I suppose that, being physically
bigger and my personality being stronger I was their natural leader. I was
also a year older, and as I accepted the role of being dominant quite
naturally, and it was in no way contrived or forced, that is just the way it
was. All of this gave me a sense of security and total fulfillment. We were
together and we were very happy. Nothing more can one ask than to share love
with somebody. Except that unless you have a dad like mine, perhaps that's
not the best way to discover your son is gay.

Mind you, my dad was not always quite so understanding: like the time he
caught me smoking! Good grief, he really kicked the shit out of me. When I
say he 'kicked the shit out of me', I mean it. He hit me and I physically
took off and flew through the air; he followed me and as I tried to rise he
kicked me again and again, in my ribs or belly or on my butt, which sent me
sprawling again. By then he had removed his broad leather belt and strapped
me with it while every time I tried to rise, he would flatten me with another
kick. When he had finished I was red, black and blue all over, and couldn't
stand up straight. I had split lips, black eyes and bruises from head to toe.
No sir! He packed a punch like a bloody mule. My dad was not someone you
could argue with.